Brave Little Lion
by KittySalt
Summary: Medella Malfoy and her twin brother Draco are notorious, and beautiful. But while Draco has the blond looks of a Malfoy his sister is the spitting image of their deranged murderous aunt, Bellatrix LeStrange. Della's beauty is haunting, and Neville Longbottom is haunted.
1. Chapter 1

Okay so new story because I had the idea and the time over my winter break. I have no idea where this is going but I really like it and the idea of Neville being more a part of things than he is originally. So this is the fic, read and review like always and I'll try to update in bursts at a time instead of one chapter at a time.

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The bloodcurdling cries were all that could be heard through the manor. Well, the only thing apart from the overly calm murmurings of the male St. Mungo's operative above hovering above the rightly disheveled Lady Malfoy. He was the best healer money could buy, and of course extensive background check had proven him pure; pureblooded that is. Lucius had made quite certain of that, he only wanted the best to handle his beautiful wife, and his soon to be beautiful babies. Lucis was standing to the side of the room, with straight blond hair, the trademark Malfoy shade of platinum, that was offset only by his sneer. His hands were pulled taut behind his back and as he stood with a face like marble, pale and hard, watching his wife give another almighty shriek before she collapsed back against the bedframe, spent and suffering.

The healer from 's who had gotten there two nights previous via floo network held up a blond headed baby boy, his red wrinkled face was screwed up as he gave a shriek that could rival Narcissa's. He was demanding to be heard in this world already, as his tiny fists shook and the maid swaddled him in a vivid emerald silk.

"Narcissa. You aren't done yet," Lucius reminded with a drawl from his place against the dark bedroom wallpaper. With a frustrated huff Narcissa resumed the seemingly endless and excruciating task of childbirth again. Noting that of course the smug bastard would give her twins. The medic had already been told twice that his mouth would be sewn shut if he opened it again, so with a silent determination he aided the striking lady in her task.

Cradling the head of the child and easing it into the world the healer held his breath.

"It's a girl?" The Medic seemed at a loss after those few words, he wasn't expecting the gender swap he had seen before him, but it wasn't the gender that had him speechless.

"Give her to me," Lucius demanded pushing himself from the wall then and taking the baby girl swiftly in his arms. Forgetting about the mess she would make he cradled her to his chest, staring in disbelief at the black haired child that cooed in his arms. She nuzzled into his black and green robes seemingly in search of something. Perhaps her twin brother, Lucius wondered to himself. He didn't care, he was entranced by this little wonder, so much like her mother's family; less of a Malfoy, and more of a Black.

The maid came back into the dark room and begun fussing about the little thing in Mr. Malfoy's arms, she plucked the child from her masters hands with little ease, but once the baby girl was free she wrapped an emerald silk around her, just as she had with her brother, and whisked her away.

Narcissa had passed out on the mattress, her blonde hair circled her sharp face in a soft glow, and her high cheekbones shone with a sheen of sweat. Lucius noted that she would have to be cleaned up, and with a look at his own appearance he knew that he better clean up as well.

"See to her," He demanded of the Healer before turning to exit the room in search of a change of clothes, and perhaps a drink. "And then leave."

Narcissa woke in a bathtub nearly four hours later, her bones ached but the hot water was somewhat soothing, she drank the potion that had been placed beside the grand clawfoot tub where she soaked. It took moments to take affect, but she waited patiently before it kicked in and she could stand from the tub without help.

Wrapping herself with a black silk robe and leaving the tub for her house elf to drain, she left the bathroom and stepped into the bedroom where she found her husband fresh and waiting for her.

"How are they Lucius?" She asked with a calm, commanding tone, which for all her efforts could still not hide her incessant curiosity. "Are they beautiful,"

"Exceedingly my dear," Lucius crossed the room to place a kiss to his wife's blonde curls. In her haste to leave the bathroom she hadn't taken care to dry them or place them just so, but it was no matter; she was still so strikingly beautiful.

"Draco and Medella," Lucius took his wife's parted lips up with is own. "They will be the best of the Malfoys and of the Blacks."


	2. Chapter 2

Another chapter, this is the first time they take the Hogwarts Express, so obviously in their first year. Next chapter will jump ahead to third year and be much longer this is still sort of a prelude. Enjoy and please read and review!

xxx

It was a calculated day in the Malfoy Manor, as all days seemed to be when it came to the distinguished family. Draco and his twin sister Medella had been up and dressed impeccably from head to toe, as if cookie cutter copies of their perfect parents.

The boy, Draco Malfoy, was a carbon copy of his father in a black suit. One that stood on his shoulders in a perfect fit and made his white blond hair and emerald eyes shine in contrast. You could see how he echoed his mother in the sharp cheekbones that lay just beneath his porcelain skin. He was striking, handsome, and undoubtedly a Malfoy. The sneer and pureblood greatness clung to him in everything he did. Even as he ate his prepared breakfast he couldn't shake the regal disdain he carried.

His sister just across from him had a similar look about her. The royal smirk and haughtiness of a Malfoy was offset with the mad, dark, curls of a Black. She was the exact image of her Aunt, Bellatrix, who was just as mad and, in her age, just as beautiful. Dressed in a dark green dress, which hung off her young frame in the best way, she commanded the room almost more than her contrasting twin. Her dark brown eyes looked to her breakfast with needless derision, they were the colour of plain coffee, or decadent chocolate, but they were made even darker under heavy lids and thick lashes. The cheekbones, that looked eerily like her mothers, and her mothers sister, were still unseen behind pudgy youth and pale skin. She was haunting, and sinisterly beautiful, it was a dangerous combination, and all who looked upon her could agree, she wouldn't break hearts like her brother, but she would crush them just for fun.

Neither of the twins were bothered with their beauty in that moment however, it was more prominent for them to finish their meals and apparate with their parents to Kings Cross station, or more correctly, Platform 93/4 which would take them to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, because like their parents before them they were magic, and they were of age. Eleven and ready to be taught the wonders of spells and potions and charms, like their parents had years ago.

It would be their first year, Narcissa and Lucius knew only too well that their children would be leaving in only hours, and that they would miss the little twins terribly from now till winter break. But as Narcissa tucked a green scarf snuggly around her protesting son she couldn't help but get the tinge of excitement that caught her when she first boarded the oxblood train that took her to her home away from home.

She remembered how her and her sister Bella had boarded the train and sat in the first free compartment, only to have it fill with boys as the train clicked on. Bella had been a heartbreaker, and the boys had been hooked to her like worms on a fishing line. It was only until Lucius had stepped into the compartment when Narcissa truly felt the giddy relief she had craved since her parents opened her Hogwarts letter.

Looking to her son she felt that same giddy relief fill her bones, she was a mess of nerves behind her calm exterior. Looking to her daughter she felt a sense of pride, and also dread. She knew the dark girl would be a force to be reckoned with, just as her sister had been. She just hoped that she would be as strong as her sister, but perhaps with a bit more sense. Lucius had just finished slipping her into her coat, and with a wave of her hand she did the buttons up for herself. A small hand seemed to squeeze at Narcissa's heart then, because that little girl, dark as she seemed, was the apple of Lucius' eye and the heart of the family.

"Daddy can we go now," She asked in a honey sweet plea, which brought Lucius down to pick her up in his arms like the day she was born. "I want to go to witch school now!"

"It's wizard school too," Her twin brother piped up, his voice seemed to win out against the September air and hug his mother's ears. She held the gloved hand of the fair little boy and her next words were the ones the twins had been waiting for all morning.

"Shall we go sweet ones?" Narcissa rang out into the air before a crack took her son and her to the Hogwarts Express platform. Lucius looked down as his daughter let a giggle loose from Medella's generous mouth at the wondrous display of magic and with a crack they too were gone.

The two parents watched as their children walked off hand in hand, one night and one day, they seemed so different and yet so similar. Draco had a swagger that could only be classified as haughty, and his sister swayed her hips even at eleven she knew how to turn heads. They boarded the train and came to a free compartment. If the compartment could talk it would tell them the stories that this compartment held. Bellatrix carving her initials into the bottom of the seat in pure destructive boredom. Lucius holding Narcissa close as the other Slytherin housemates looked to them in admiration. It was all there, and now so were they.

"Draco, help me with my trunk." Medella asked her brother in a needy whine that would be sure to stir him from his seat. Her assumptions were proven true as her brother groaned and hauled her trunk up alongside his only to lay back down, not caring that he was wrinkling his expensive suit. Medella only giggled at her brother's annoyance.

"Thank you brother mine," She blew an air kiss at him before flouncing into her own seat and stretching out lavishly.

The two had the cart to themselves for only moments before the door opened and shut again, revealing a young skinny boy. His black skin and amber eyes took in the sight before him. It was undeniable that they were purebloods, like him, and they could only be Malfoys. The blond boy was looking up to him in cruel disinterest, which only spoke of his lineage even more. The girl had her hands folded over her stomach and her head dropped to the side in a lazy show of boredom. She had something in her eyes that dared the boy in front of her to speak, and forbid him to look away. Her thick black lashes and heavy lids dropped over her eyes slowly and her wide mouth and full lips parted into a dangerous smirk.

"I'm Blaise," The boy said causing the twins to snap to attention at the amber-eyed boy who showed the promise of another Slytherin like them. He had a strong jaw, even at his young age, and a pureblood status that was seemingly pinned onto his shirt with confidence. The twins knew that her would be joining them at the table later that night, and in their compartment for the rest of the journey. Things slowed down then, Medella even managed to nap as her brother and the new boy, Blaise spoke about the Hogwarts houses and other trivial things.

The train carried on and Medella woke after a while, the boys had gone to change into their school robes and she knew that she should do the same, but the door opened before she got the chance to get the uniform out of her trunk. Medella stood slowly, her black curls were messy from sleep, and generally always messy, they hung around her face and her dark features were drawn up with arrogance at the sight before her.

A lumpy boy had pulled open the door to her compartment and stood breathless in shock, or fear, or both. His robes were around him and fit poorly, his teeth hung out of his mouth, which was parted seemingly unbeknownst to him. His dark hair was combed lamely to the side and his ears stuck out a bit. Medella was disgusted.

"What?" She snarled cruelly the boy nearly pissed himself. It seemed as though he couldn't find the voice to reply, and he was dreading his decision to open this compartment. Why did he have to be so unlucky all the time? it wasn't until the girl in front of him spoke again that he found himself able to form a coherent sentence, "Is there a reason to you?"

"I'm looking for my toad, have you seen him?" The girl's mouth seemed to sink even deeper into the foul sneer that she hadn't dropped since he walked in. Her eyes were almost black and they swept over him slowly making the boy wish he'd never been born.

"Have you tried the mirror." The girl spat and the boy nearly ran from her then, but his feet refused to move. He was stuck under the dangerous gaze of this terrible girl.

"My name is Neville if you find him." The boy tried again, unreasonably brave, Medella thought harshly. The girl ignored him and shut the door before he could continue. He turned away, dejected, before sighing and trying the next door.

"Who was that?" Blaise asked as he entered into the compartment, Medella had her uniform in hand and was making for the door. Her brother asked the same question with a perk of his platinum eyebrows. His wordless communication was familiar to his twin sister as it had been for years of childhood together back home at the Manor.

"Just a Toad," she replied brushing past Draco and Blaise to put on her uniform. The one that would be proudly Slytherin before nightfall; she was after all a Malfoy.


	3. Chapter 3

Alright so third chapter is up and I am exhausted! Let me know what you think, and have a good one! ALSO! I have edited this chapter so it will seem familiar, but the ages have been altered to fit my timeline and to make things move a bit faster. Review to let me know how I'm doing, seriously guys reviews save lives! Alright, whatever, here we go.

xxx

Lucius and Narcissa watched as the train took their children from them for a fifth time; they were fifteen and seemingly all grown up. They hadn't even looked back as they boarded with their friends and stepped into the compartment that they had filled on their first journey and then again on their second, third and fourth. Draco had grown taller, so that now he stood just under the chin of his father. His eyes had grown sharper and his hair was no longer slicked like his mother had insisted. He was in fact quite handsome, with high cheekbones and a cold exterior. Narcissa noticed the way girls would stare after her son when he walked by, and the way that little Pansy clung to him every chance she got. It was pathetic, but her son was definitely worth the attention.

Her daughter was another matter. Where her brother was tall, she was short. Her frame stood at least a head shorter than Draco. Her figure was full; it made heads turn and hands ache with a need to hold her, to feel her. Unfortunately, Medella knew exactly what she did to them; she walked with her hips swaying and her head held high. She was already too powerful, too confident, just like Bella had been. Her laugh and her voice sounded eerily similar to the aunt that was rotting away in prison, a deep rich tone and dangerous inflection had the perfect combination for the manipulative nature of the girl. She was a force to be reckoned with, and she knew it.

So as Narcissa watched them walk onto the train, standing in her husband's arms she could only shake her head and laugh. Lucius looked down at her, flipping his long blond hair out of the way so he could look fully to his stunning wife.

"What's so funny?" He asked in a drawl that was similar to his son's.

"Merlin help the boys this year," Narcissa replied more to herself than anyone else. She could feel her husbands grip tighten around her, hating the thought of the little princess all grown up. At that the parents looked up to see their children hanging out the train window. Waving and Medella's kisses were blown across the platform to touch them for the last time till winter break. Lucius watched as Draco held onto his sister as she hung dangerously out the window. Her form was fading away into the distance, down the tracks, but somehow her striking features were still visible.

"Merlin help them," Lucius agreed and with a flick of his wrist the were gone.

xxx

The feast was always a splendid affair, and from the heart of the Slytherin table it was surely the best welcome the twins could receive. Blaise was on the left of Medella and her darling brother Draco was on the right. Clinging to him was the nasty little squilch Pansy Parkinson, but Medella found she was easy enough to tune out.

"Della?" Her brother asked her from beside her with a sharp pull on her arm, which was holding her pretty head up from the table lazily. She turned to her brother sharply, looking into his green eyes and wondering how he could be so stupid. The Malfoy's temper had always been so fragile.

"What Draco?" she snapped at him, not caring about his reasons, but certainly affronted by his rude interruptions. She had been thinking of nothing really, unlike the rest of the student body that was seemingly obsessed with The-Boy-Who-Lived, or better yet The-Boy-Who-Rules-Don't-Affect. The table, the great hall, had been humming with the news of his trial for under aged wizardry and in turn it's consequences, that of course wonder-boy brushed off without a care.

"Did you hear Potter was almost expelled?" Draco questioned, not wanting the answer but wanting to share that the golden boy had fallen. Medella's dark eyes rolled slowly behind her heavy lashes. "It's a shame they let him come back if you ask me,"

"I didn't ask you though did I? Believe it or not I don't care about the Gryffindor git, not like you do, brother mine." She stated before turning back to her food. She couldn't help flitting her eyes across the gryffindor table, searching for the boy in question. The famous Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the youngest seeker in Hogwarts history. She didn't care what he was called, to her he seemed like every other plucky adolescent male. With messy black hair and wire framed spectacles he was truly underwhelming, and his choice in mates was even less attractive.

Medella scanned over the granger girl and her bushy brown main, too much like the mighty gryffindor lion. Then she cast her eyes and sneer to the Weasley boy, his ginger hair and freckles were attached to a pale face and lanky body. Again underwhelming. She was about to cast her gaze away from the sad sight of the Gryffindor table when something caught her eye. It was that boy.

Neville had been watching the Slytherin table not out of interest, but out of habit. He liked to see what they were like when they weren't trying to be intimidating. When they were just being real people like the rest of the world. He scanned over the table like he did so often, but when he got to the centre of the table he couldn't seem to move his gaze any further. It was the Malfoy twins, or more specifically Medella Malfoy that had his eyes stuck in their place, like a mouse frozen under the cat's watchful eye. She wasn't even looking at him, but that didn't matter he was still entranced.

Her beauty was haunting, and he wasn't the only one to notice it, of course he wasn't, anyone who'd laid eyes on her could tell you she was the best thing they'd ever seen. He was sure that even Harry Potter, who hated the Malfoys with so much fervor, had thought about her when he shouldn't have. Not saying that Neville had thought about her like that, the boy amended in his head while his cheeks flared red and the heat flushed his face. He wouldn't dare think like that about her, she would pull out his teeth one by one, slowly. He dared one more look at her, and nearly wet himself when he found her looking back. Her dark eyes seemed to tell him that he'd made a grave mistake, but the amusement he found there made him see past the terror he held and stare some more. She smirked at him, her generous mouth stretching wide over her perfect teeth. He could see the quirk of her mouth and how it pulled at the dark corners of her somewhat sunken eyes. She was the kind of person who could make you hurt and then make you believe it was pure joy you were feeling. Medella Malfoy was dangerous, but Neville Longbottom was hooked.

"What are you looking at?" Blaise asked, picking a potato wedge off of Medella's plate before popping it in his mouth and smirking at the girl beside him.

"Nothing special," She purred to the boy beside her and took a sip of her goblet. She had successfully mastered the water to wine charm and when the bittersweet taste hit the lips of the young witch she knew it had been worth it. Draco beside her scoffed before taking another sip of his wine, having mastered the spell weeks before his sister.

Medella continued with her dinner, all the while keeping a discreet eye on the lanky brunette boy. He was much taller and slimmer than last she remembered him, but to be entirely honest he hadn't been worth remembering. As Medella watched him now she could tell that all that would change, the boy had potential shining under that crimson blush, perhaps it was buried far under the surface, but it was there. With a last glance his way she could tell that women didn't think much of him, and he certainly didn't think much of women, but there in that noisy great hall, among her fellow Slytherin, she decided to change that.

xxx

It was early in the morning, but somehow still late, when Medella finally got up and dressed for the day. It was cold and damp in the Slytherin common rooms, which were located in the basement of the school, so Della dressed quickly. All the while taking care to roll her stockings up just right, to fix her skirt so it was just higher than the other girls, and do up just enough buttons on her blouse before slipping into her brother's fourth year cardigan and going to fix her hair. She spent next to no time throwing it into a haphazard bun that she had mimicked from pictures of her Aunty Bella that she had found that summer in the Manors attic. Her messy black curls fell around her face framing it romantically, leaving her strong jaw and elegant collarbone open to the world. It was a calculated hairstyle that looked anything but. Perfect for Medella Malfoy, who was practiced and poised almost all the time.

When she walked into the common room she found her brother waiting for her on the couch, at his side were Crabbe and Goyle, probably the two ugliest boys that the twins had ever laid eyes on, and the stupidest. Blaise was probably still in bed, he didn't go to class much but when he did he found that he was right to skip it. Pansy was also there, she was behind Draco, rubbing his shoulders with the skill and care of a wombat. Medella wanted to scoff at the look of uncomfort that graced her brothers fair face. She also wanted to put Pansy in her place, to show the girl what little power she had here.

"Pansy," Della called out as she entered the room, the dark walls making her darkness that much more haunting. "I don't think Draco wants your dirty hands on him, and I know _I _don't want your dirty hands on him. It's nothing personal it's just that the Malfoys have a reputation to uphold and you just won't do." The pug faced girl's features screwed up in rage and her hands left the blond boys shoulders. The wrinkles left in his otherwise impeccable uniform were out of place and needed to be straightened out. Medella didn't need to tell her brother however, he knew just as well as she that the Malfoys were to be taken seriously, even here. Draco brushed the remainder of the girl's rough hands off his shoulders and straightened his silver and green necktie before offering his arm to his sister.

As Medella took her brothers arm, Pansy Parkinson left the common room in a red-faced huff. Della smirked in satisfaction while Draco could only roll his eyes at her, pettiness wasn't the most noble of Malfoy traits, but it was a strong one.

"Did you have to make her so upset?" Draco questioned following his sister up the stairs. His twin simply turned to him then, needing no words to communicate her answer; of course she did. With the matter settled the twins climbed the stairs out of the dungeons and then went their separate ways like night passing by day.

xxx

Classes with Slytherins were Neville's least favourite classes, and he couldn't believe his rotten luck that his time table was full of them. Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and even Herbology were all filled with the snakes. He looked at his breakfast with dismay as Seamus and Dean discussed Quidditch beside him, how could he have such terrible luck?

It was only after a while when he decided to glance around. Looking up from his sausages and toast he scanned the rest of the Gryffindor table, eyes landing on the luckiest guy he knew. Why couldn't he be like Harry? Fearless Harry, effortless Harry, the boy was loved by everyone in school, and all the teachers seemed to favour him as well, especially the DADA teachers, which was the coolest subject and coincidentally Neville's worst. What Neville wouldn't give to have just a shred of the life Harry must have.

He didn't have time to dwell on these thoughts however, the bell tolled to signal breakfast was over and swarms of witches and wizards filed out of the great hall to make it to their next class without a detention. Neville dropped his toast and made for the door, it was time for Potions.

Snape was the scariest teacher of all. His deadpanned disdain and his bitter cruelty left the students apprehensive in the dungeon classroom. Draco and Della however did not find the head of Slytherin house so frightening, and in turn he found the twins to be less of a nuisance than the other students, well actually that wasn't true they were both too arrogant for his liking. So as the twins took their seats at the back of class and the rest of the students filled the seats around them Snape found himself looking them over once more.

He always had to take a second glance at Medella Malfoy, thinking that the ghost of Bella was traipsing through the halls or sitting smugly right in front of him,. It was unnerving the likeness, and even worse when paired with her unmistakable mannerisms, the heavy lidded lazy smirk and the dark sneer that made even the Hogwarts staff shake out of their skin. Her brother, hardly twins if time wasn't vouched for, was the slytherin prince, blond and regal he had a sense of entitlement that stretched far too wide for Snape's liking, just like his father.

The old professor had to blink the thoughts from his mind when he realised that the classroom was full and the bratty little students were ready to learn, as if they could. He stood to give his standard introduction lesson when the door creaked open yet again.

Neville Longbottom cursed his rotten luck for the second time that day. Crabbe and Goyle had bumped into him in the halls on his way to the dungeons, literally and harshly they had knocked him to the ground and sent his books flying. Of course no one had bothered to help and of course he walked into class late and flustered while Snape chewed him out in front of all the other students, in front of her.

Medella watched in annoyance and then amusement at the tall brown haired boy. She watched as his cheeks flushed a deep Gryffindor crimson and his mouth opened and shut like a fish searching for water. She muffled a snicker into her sleeve as Snape stood in front of him and degraded him loudly. The boy stood his ground, if only slightly, until Snape made to hit him over the head. Shying away from the professor's raised hand Della could only smirk at the boy. So much for a brave Gryffindor she bemused silently. Draco beside her snorted ungracefully and she rolled her eyes at her brothers amusement.

"Go sit down. You insolent little waste." Snape snarled as the little lion shrunk away with his tail between his legs. The _mighty_ lion, Della scoffed. The class searched around alongside the unlucky boy, looking for an empty seat in the cold, damp, potions classroom. It was only then that Medella stopped laughing, and her brother beside her did as well, because the empty seat that this little lion was looking for was across from the intimidating twins. Della cursed under her breath at the same time Draco did, perhaps it was their bond as twins that caused them to choose the same word.

A word that Neville echoed as he sat his books down on the desk and then parked himself slowly in front of the one girl he hadn't seemed to shake the thought of. The one girl who single handedly struck fear and something else into his heart.

"Miss Malfoy," Snape called across the classroom causing the girl in question to turn from her prey and arch a thick black eyebrow at him expectantly, "What is the difference between a draught and a potion?"

"I don't know professor," She drawled out.

"Excuse me," Snape deadpanned back at the arrogant Slytherin Princess.

"I don't care," she smirked darkly, "But I'm sure Granger has the answer and that she'd do just about anything to tell you," The seductive tone that took hold of her voice then left the room speechless, and Neville in shock.

Della took a long look at the room around her, which seemed to have taken a collective gasp. She saw a beet red Hermione who was shooting daggers at Della, she saw Snape who looked taken aback by the brazen teen, and then to her brother who was bored by her usual antics. Though it was the boy in front of her who truly caught her attention, his brown hair hung just above his eyebrows and curled up at the ends, his cheeks were painted red yet again, and his mouth was parted, showing white teeth behind two full lips. His lanky form was too big and too awkward for his new uniform, which was worn in the standard way leading the Malfoy to confirm that this boy had never sought out attention from the opposite sex, she wondered if he even knew how.

He stared at her with such open amazement that Della had to arch her brow at him. She smirked at his reaction, which was an uncollected gasp, and then turned back to the teacher. Snape was outraged, but keeping a calm front was something he had mastered in his youth.

"I have no desire to hear from Miss Granger, although I'm sure she knows. I would like you to answer, what is the difference between a Draft and a Potion." It was no longer a question but a demand. Medella had no idea of the answer nor did she care that this would be her last chance to make things right.

"Draughts are usually medicinal, whereas potions are usually made for a miscellaneous magical purposes." She rattled off boredly earning a warning glance from her professor in the process.

"Correct Miss Malfoy," Snape moved on to terrorize the next deserving victim and Medella sat back in a huff. She would never tell anyone that she had read the answer right off the little lion's lips.

xxx

Okay so this last chapter has been edited so that the main characters are in fifth year. This helps the plot so much for me and makes their odd sexual stuff to be a tad more believable. I will hopefully have the next chapter up within the next three days and I hope that you've enjoyed this story so far. Please review, as it is extremely helpful, (I've already put a couple suggestions to use!)


	4. Chapter 4

Hey so next chapter up and ready! Hope you are enjoying yourselves here, I am for sure. If you are confused as to the story's sudden lapse in time it is because I changed it, go reread the last chapter as I have edited it and it will explain the timeline issues you may be having. I wanted the characters a little older to speed up plot and to make their interactions less awkward. All good? We cool? Okay, lets get on with it.

xxx

Neville was in shock, staring at the dark freckle just above Medella Malfoy's exposed collarbone. He couldn't believe his luck, his stupid, rotten, useless, broken luck that had taken him out of bed this morning and sHey so next chapter up and ready! Hope you are enjoying yourselves here, I am for sure. If you are confused as to the story's sudden lapse in time it is because I changed it, go reread the last chapter as I have edited it and it will explain the timeline issues you may be having. I wanted the characters a little older to speed up plot and to make their interactions less awkward. All good? We cool? Okay, lets get on with it.

xxx

Neville was in shock, staring at the dark freckle just above Medella Malfoy's exposed collarbone. He couldn't believe his luck, his stupid, rotten, useless, broken luck that had taken him out of bed this morning and somehow led him here; to the heart of the Slytherin table. He was sitting beside Blaise Zabini, who sat across from Draco Malfoy, who sat next to Medella, the girl who had taken root in his mind like a transplanted Mandrake. His vision went in and out of focus as their double potions block spanned on, and it wasn't until a hand caught his sight that he fully came to.

"I think he's finally lost it," Della pointed out in a bored tone, not caring to keep her voice down despite the silence in the classroom. "I mean his parents are loopy but I didn't think it was hereditary." She drawled out, rubbing the place where the boy had been staring as if to shake him off. Neville's eyes snapped into focus then, narrowing at the cold witch despite how much she scared him.

"Oh looky Draco the lion's come out to play," She laughed then, and her brother smirked down at the boy. Emerald eyes flashing with amusement at the fuming Gryffindor. He knew not to get involved, Medella never liked to share, and she was certainly capable of tearing this boy apart without his help; she was cruel when she was bored.

"How do you know about them?" Neville demanded in a wavering tone, keeping his voice down as if his lineage was some grave secret, perhaps it was, Della didn't care. His cheeks were flushed a shade darker than angry, and his jaw was set in a hard determination. This was a change she was not expecting to see, and she was enjoying it very much. Maybe, she thought, he was a lion after all.

"Do you know who I am?" Medella questioned with a brow arched in dark amusement. "Because my aunty Bella told me all about you." She waited as her words sunk in and she watched his face change from confusion to disbelief to horror and then finally settled on anger. Draco watched as his sister's lips spread into a wide smile and her eyes watched the boy in predatory acuteness. She had no idea how terrifying she looked, like a lioness, but much darker. It dawned on him then that Longbottom must never have seen a picture of Bellatrix, the woman who disabled his parents, or he would have already made the undeniable connection; it was no secret that Medella was just like her.

"It can't be," Neville shook his head as if that would somehow alleviate the pressure that was building there, like it would shake away the confusion.

"Well it is," The Malfoy dropped from amused to irritated in a flick of a wand. "I suggest you come to terms with it. I have." Neville's emotions changed in less time than Medella's.

The girl had crossed a line, she knew that, but the look on his face had been spectacular. The look on his face now was just pathetic. His brow was pulled low over his brown eyes, the hurt and anger that lived there could be seen from the astronomy tower. He looked from Medella to her twin brother in absolute disbelief, as if he couldn't fathom this new low that they had sunk to. Medella just smirked as Draco sneered, the Gryffindor boy was out of his league, but still he pressed on.

"Say a word about my parents and I'll-" He started, but faltered to think up a threat that these twins would find threatening, he found none. He doubted that the two Malfoys seated in front of him were scared of anything. Medella saw him falter and snapped at his heels.

"You'll what Longbottom? You have nothing on me, on us, and you know it." She spoke true, but she also spoke harshly and it made Neville's forehead crinkle and his mouth draw into a pathetic pout; he was worried about the information getting out.

Despite how cruel Medella claimed to be, she could not deny that this pathetic lion had hit a nerve, however small that nerve may be. Perhaps it was because even still he was eyeing the girl up like he still had a chance at winning the fight. Or maybe it was that for all his insecurities he was staring at the girl head on, not caring what she might say or do next.

She didn't know what it was, but she couldn't break it, not just yet.

"Alright fine, Longbottom don't be so pathetic, I'm not going to tell anyone about your parents, it's not my secret to share, and I don't really care about your sick mum and dad." His head snapped up then, his brown eyes meeting hers and clinging to them as if her near-black irises were the only life preserver on a sinking

ship.

"Make him promise." Neville said resolute, nodding his head in the direction of Draco. The boy in question merely nodded his cooperation and continued stare at the board as his quill copied down the notes by magic.

"Draco won't be a problem," Medella sighed rolling her eyes at her brother's sneer. Draco was the least of this boys problems, she still had her plans in mind.

Her plans to drive this boy mental, just like his parents, had formulated in her mind throughout the day, but now, with him so openly opposed to her lineage, it was as if icing had been slathered onto a cake. She would make him want her, despite every little nerve in his awkward body, she would make him crave her, and then crush him into dust.

But not quite yet, as the bell sounded the end of the double potions block Medella hauled her bag onto her shoulder and waltzed out of the classroom, making sure to swing her hips. Her somewhat large mouth was drawn into a signature pout. Draco gathered up his things and with one last look at the Gryffindor wimp he was off, throwing a warning over his shoulder. The boy at least deserved that much.

"Watch yourself Longbottom," He sneered down at the boy before dropping the malice in his emerald eyes. It was a brief moment of honesty from one boy to the next, but for some reason the effects left Neville in a state of greater unrest. "Watch yourself with her." With the last words the blond boy slipped out the door, leaving Neville with a lot to think about.

Neville thought about those words all through the day, and then among the crowd in the great hall. He thought about them in bed, before sleep, and then again in the morning as he brushed his teeth; he couldn't shake the Malfoy's advice, and the girl it pertained to. Even his friends noticed his distant mind, showing their concern all through breakfast and on the way to herbology.

"Are you sure you're alright Neville?" Hermione persisted, though she'd already asked three times before. Neville snapped his attention back to his bushy haired friend. He gave a weak smile and a slight nod. "Because I would walk you up to see Madam Pomfrey if you'd like," The clever witch made an effort to look her friend in the eyes, giving a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine, really," Neville said, leaving the group walking down the hill to the greenhouses in a silent disbelief. "I'm just tired I suppose."

"Yeah I suppose it is hard to sleep with ron snoring like a Swedish Short Snout all night," Harry cut in, causing Ron to kick up a fuss. Neville breathed in relief at the attention deflected.

"Look at the lions roar Draco," Della cackled as she passed, brushing Neville sharply, leaving his shoulder aching at the contact. He rubbed the spot where her shoulder had collided with his, or I suppose his elbow, there was a great height difference between the two. She turned to walk backwards, biting a full red apple before tossing it to her brother. She eyed up the Gryffindor students, there was Granger, Weasley, and of course Potter, but her dark lidded eyes couldn't help but settle on Longbottom. Neville was sure that he must be crazy, or he must be a dead man, because Medella Malfoys eyes scanned him, making their way from his toes to his top and everything in between. He felt absolutely open, and almost raw, as if her eyes raking him up and down actually left a mark; he could swear they did. What caught him off guard though was the reaction she seemed to have to him, her eyes were calculating, almost as if she were an artist, going over a blank canvas. Neville shuddered, as if that would shake her gaze off.

"I thought I heard a snake in the grass," Hermione spat back, taking offense to the nasty girl's tone.

"Oh clever Granger," The girl taunted, "Did you think long on that one?" With a roll of her eyes she turned and walked in the direction of the greenhouses. Neville cursed under his breath, another class with the Slytherins. Potions was unavoidable, but did they have to ruin his favourite subject, his best subject. He had started the walk off happy, but as they neared the greenhouse doors he felt dread sink in.

The words, "Watch yourself with her," Played over and over in Neville's mind. He wondered why Draco Malfoy would give him the warning, but more prominently he wondered what it meant. He risked a glance at the girl in question, her brows were furrowed over her textbook, making her dark features even darker. Her hair was messy and tangled and piled high on her head, with curls hanging loose that tickled her pale neck. Neville found the image disturbing, or at least what it did to him was disturbing; he didn't want to like what he saw.

Medella felt a weight on her that could only be watchful eyes, and she scanned the room for the intruder. Her eyes landed on his heavily, they stuck like glue and she kicked her plan into action. With a slow gaze she travelled up his awkward frame to his face, she flicked her gaze to his lips, which were parted, and then back over his freckles to his eyes, he seemed to melt as her gaze swept over him with a calculated heat.

Neville spilt the soil he was meaning to place around the plant. His trowel hung loosely in his grasp and if it weren't for the other twenty students he would've forgotten where he was. He would've forgotten that they weren't the only ones in the room. He felt his cheeks flame and his heart pick up it's pace in his chest. He cursed it, the girl was dangerous, she was the very image of Bellatrix LeStrange, the one to blame for everything. He blamed her for taking his parents away from him, for making him live with his clueless Grandmum, for the lack of confidence he had, and lastly for being the one thing that made Medella Malfoy off limits.

It wasn't as though he had a chance with her, but he liked to hope that on some level they had an equal footing, and he had just as much chance as the next guy. No, Medella was off limits because she was the enemy. It was as if Neville had put her, even the idea of her, on a high shelf to be forgotten; but like he knew he shouldn't he would always return to the idea. He cursed himself for taking a look at her, and he cursed himself for wanting to take another.

xxx

Medella had been playing her game slowly. First she had planted the idea in September, making him look at her, making him look twice at her. She had made sure to walk in front of him up the stairs to divination, to keep his attention focused on her, and in turn to make him notice that he was gaining her attention, and now, as October drew to a close, she sat across the hall from him she made an effort to be loud. It wasn't as if she had to try hard, her voice carried far at the best of times, and she did love Halloween. She laughed loudly, and flicked her hair, which had escaped the usual bun and now hung around her head like an unruly black mane. She took a large bite of her dinner and casually flipped her eyes onto the Gryffindor table, and more importantly the lanky lion that sat there. She had a need to sink her teeth into something, and took it out on her potato covered fork. He had been watching her, but she didn't want to care.

xxx

That night, after the grand feast and the great desert, Neville had a dream, one he wished was a nightmare. He woke sweaty, still feeling the effects that the sleep induced images gave him. He shook his head, as if that would get her out of it. The dark Malfoy had waltzed her way into his dream, swaying her hips and taunting him with a sneer. But it wasn't the usual stuff that had him all worked up, it was the impossibility of what happened next that had him all hot and bothered. She had found him in the Greenhouses, where he would often go after classes to work in peace, and she had pushed him up against the wall, rattling both him and the glass. She had put her hands on his chest, his lean muscles had jumped at her touch, and she had gone further, but Neville blushed to think about it.

"Bloody hell Neville are you still awake?" Ron mumbled bleary eyed from his pillow. Neville nearly jumped out of his skin, at the boys startling presence, he'd almost forgotten where he was, who he was with. All the other boys were asleep in their four poster beds, Neville was awake and mad with the thoughts of what the dream girl had done next.

"_Are you just going to stand there Longbottom?" _She had asked him, challenging every muscle in his body that was begging him to move, to fight against his mind and give the Malicious Malfoy exactly what she wanted, and despite all his protest he did. He kissed her with a fierceness he didn't know he possessed, and all she could do was say his name.

"_Neville_," she breathed into his ear, causing his lips at her neck to work faster.

"Neville," She said again, a little louder, and as a low grumble traveled up his throat.

"Neville! Wake up, we'll be late," He was being shaken now, shaken out of his stupor, though the groan escaping his lips now was for an entirely different reason. Ron standing above him was a stark contrast to what he'd just been thinking of, and his red hair didn't nearly compare to Medella's black curls.

xxx

"What took you boys so long," Hermione questioned in a sharp whisper as the boys just nearly made it into their defense against the dark arts class. A class that was usually fine, despite it's temporary teachers, and darker subject matter, was now absolute bollocks. Their new teacher, Umbridge was a fowl toad, who dressed in gaudy pink and left a lot to be desired in an educational standpoint. Even the Slytherins hated her, though they took some compensation knowing that the Gryffindors favourite subject had been ruined. As Neville slid into his seat next to Harry and Ron, he could see that Umbridge wasn't anywhere to be found.

"Neville had a tough time getting up this morning," Harry whispered to Hermione, she nodded her head and gave Neville a sympathetic look.

"That's not how I remember it," Ron smirked, causing Neville to blush at what was implied. Hermione scowled at Ron, but her sympathetic look to Neville seemed almost worse.

"Alright class shall we begin," Umbridge called, appearing at the front of the class in a bubblegum pink set of robes, Neville winced and pulled out his books, leaving his wand out of sight. This was a wand free class, although in the four hundred years of teaching it hadn't been as regulated. The ministry had thought that it was better this way, that students would be safer, and frankly Neville felt safer that the Slytherin in the back of the class couldn't throw and jinxes his way, but other than that he felt pointless. He always felt pointless.

Neville's mind however began to remember a time when he didn't feel that way, quite the opposite actually. He began to slip into the dream from this morning, remembering the way he knew what to do, and where to put his hands. Her waist seemed to have the perfect curve to fit his large, awkward, hands to. She had curves, he realised, that he had never seen on a girl before, because she wasn't altogether slim like the other girls, but rather filled out and Neville was just remembering the best part when his attention was snapped with the slam of a door.

"You are late Miss Malfoy," Umbridge said in a shrill, passive aggressive tone that made the whole class cringe. Well, the whole class except Medella Malfoy who had just now walked in and was flouncing to her seat. Neville tried not to notice the way she swung her hips.

"Quite observant." Medella let out in a slow droll, she rolled her eyes and adjusted herself in her seat, leaning back with her arms crossed below her chest.

"You have been a dissruption to the class and I'm afraid it will cause you a detention." Umbridge persisted, though Medella was hardly listening.

"Oh drat," Medella whimpered, mocking the teacher, who was growing red in the face.

"I will not stand for such disrespect, young lady!" Umbridge cried, and the whole room waited with baited breath for Medella's reply. I'm sure the whole room was expecting a humble apology to pass the girls lips, but Neville knew it would never happen.

"Oh _fuck off_, Dolores," Medella moaned with the roll of her eyes. The class gasped at the obscene language and almost Gyrffindor bravery that had spilled out of Medella just then. Neville felt a surge of pride that could not be spoken for, and Dolores Umbridge had a pulsing vein at the top of her forhead that looked about ready to burst.

"GET OUT!" umbridge screamed, somehow resisting the urge to throw her china cup at the insolent little brat's head. She would see to it that this girl got the most excruciating punishment, but for now she needed to get this girl out of the class, before she said something else. She must maintain order.

xxx

Medella had been feeling like causing trouble all day. It was like an itch just under the skin, and it was driving her crazy. She wanted to scream, and to throw things, or maybe to just torment another person. Walking down to the dungeons and into her Potions class she knew exactly what to do that day. She spotted Neville Longbottom in his usual seat, across from her empty one, and the way he sat with his head in his hands caused her itch to burn underneath her skin. She walked into class and slid into the seat, putting her bag in her brothers empty seat and grabbing an apple out of it's depths. She made sure to shine the apple on her blouse before biting into it. She caught Neville watching her out of the corner of his eye. She hung her heavy lidded gaze on his, slowly luring his eyes to look her full on. She then looked away. Medella smirked to herself as she felt the boys gaze stay on her even when the professor had called the room to attention. Her brother had skipped out of classes that day, feigning a headache, but Medella knew the truth. Blaise had also decided to skip, though his reasons had more to do with the girl's skirt he was no doubt up right now. She was left alone with Neville, and that meant her plans would take action sooner rather than later.

Neville wondered if his luck could get worse, or better, or what he should think of this predicament he found himself in. With Medella Malfoy as his potions partner, with her hair up and off her beautiful face, and her sleeves pushed up and her skirt too high on her thighs when she sat next to him. He had no idea what to think when she leaned over him to add potions ingredients, and he had no idea what to think of his heart racing at her proximity.

"Are you even listening to me Longbottom," The dark Malfoy asked him, arching her brow at him dangerously. Neville snapped to attention, passing her the lacewing flies she had asked for, his large hands brushing hers as she took the jar from him. "Pay better attention next time. We wouldn't want you having an accident would we?"

Medella had meant it as a threat, but at Neville's blush she realized just how well her plan had to be working. She would have to ease up on her actions, but for some reason she couldn't, not yet. Medella instead looked up at the boy through her dark eyelashes, and spread her large lips into a knowing smirk, causing the boys cheeks and neck to flush a bright scarlet. She noticed the dark freckles he had across his neck, that were just covered by the starched white collar of his shirt. She twirled a curl around her fingertips and kept working.

xxx

Neville was in hogsmeade, after just signing up for Dumbledores army, he was walking back up to the castle and snow was falling. He felt good, as if something had clicked and this what he was supposed to be doing. He felt like his parents would be proud. The general air around him seemed to have changed, it was exhilarating. But perhaps that had more to do with his friends around him, and Hermione talking about rule breaking. Either way Neville knew that the good mood he found himself in had to do with the sheer Gryffindor air that hung about the students as they crossed into the castle from the cold. Neville was intent on finding a place for them to practice. Harry would help them to learn defense against the dark arts, in secret of course, but they needed a room first. As Neville roamed the castle the next few days he was intent on finding one, and on the way back from the library a week later he found it.

Medella had been looking to relieve her boredom and she had found a handsome seventh year Ravenclaw to help her with what she needed. She had just finished, choosing the room of requirement for privacy and appropriate accommodations for their activities. She was buttoning up her shirt when she stepped into the hallway and out of the come-and-go room. The boy had needed a moment to collect himself, but he was right behind her, when Neville Longbottom rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks, wishing that his footfalls had been just a bit lighter, wanting to turn back without a word, but it was too late. Medella Malfoy had felt eyes on her, and as she looked up from her task of redressing herself she found him. Neville Longbottom, she smirked up at his presence, glad it wasn't anyone of note, like her brother, or a teacher. The boy behind her, Max, was fixing his belt and Medella huffed at the boy's incompetence. "Want to give me a hand with this?" He smirked up at her, thinking that he was being oh so clever. Neville winced, and Medella turned from one boy to the next. The little lions face held in her mind as she turned her wrath on the moronic Ravenclaw.

"Are you still here?" She spat unreasonably volatile, sending the Ravenclaw boy stumbling down the hall in the opposite direction. She wheeled her fury then on the little lion, who was fighting the urge to cower, and the urge to press her against the wall where the door once was. Did she know how beautiful she was.

Her dark features were drawn up and she looked like a panther, or even a viper waiting to strike, it was mesmerising. But when she spoke the poison stung, and Neville remembered that they could never be together. Despite the dreams he kept having.

"What are you looking at?" She spat at him, cooling down from her initial eruption at the Ravenclaw. Neville just stood there, not quite frozen to the spot.

"Nothing," He muttered, looking away from her, although still keeping the image of her dark eyes on him at the back of his mind. "I'll keep your secret," He added on like an after thought, thinking back to the time she'd shown the same courtesy months previous.

"I don't care who you tell Longbottom," she said, flipping her hair to the side so that all the curls piled on top of each other. Neville felt a pang of jealousy that the Ravenclaw had had the chance to run his hands through it. Neville wanted badly to touch it now.

As if Medella had sensed his need she ran her fingers through her hair in a way that made Neville want to melt. Perhaps he was melting, he felt his knees a little weaker than before.

"Look, I'm glad you feel the need for privacy, but I can assure you that Max will have already told anyone who'll listen. I have that effect on boys." Neville just looked at the floor, his shoes suddenly so interesting to him. He clenched his hands in his pockets, maybe because he couldn't hold her. "You'll make a girl quite happy one day Longbottom." Medella purred, a lot closer to him than she had been moments ago. Her fingers touched his chin lightly, and Neville almost let a low noise escape his throat, almost. She tilted his head so that he looked her in the eyes, and his lips were parted just slightly. "But you'll have to look them in the eyes first." She spoke, her breath sending shivers down his spine, he felt the tingle of her closeness all the way back to his common room, and all the way through the night.

omehow led him here; to the heart of the Slytherin table. He was sitting beside Blaise Zabini, who sat across from Draco Malfoy, who sat next to Medella, the girl who had taken root in his mind like a transplanted Mandrake. His vision went in and out of focus as their double potions block spanned on, and it wasn't until a hand caught his sight that he fully came to.

"I think he's finally lost it," Della pointed out in a bored tone, not caring to keep her voice down despite the silence in the classroom. "I mean his parents are loopy but I didn't think it was hereditary." She drawled out, rubbing the place where the boy had been staring as if to shake him off. Neville's eyes snapped into focus then, narrowing at the cold witch despite how much she scared him.

"Oh looky Draco the lion's come out to play," She laughed then, and her brother smirked down at the boy. Emerald eyes flashing with amusement at the fuming Gryffindor. He knew not to get involved, Medella never liked to share, and she was certainly capable of tearing this boy apart without his help; she was cruel when she was bored.

"How do you know about them?" Neville demanded in a wavering tone, keeping his voice down as if his lineage was some grave secret, perhaps it was, Della didn't care. His cheeks were flushed a shade darker than angry, and his jaw was set in a hard determination. This was a change she was not expecting to see, and she was enjoying it very much. Maybe, she thought, he was a lion after all.

"Do you know who I am?" Medella questioned with a brow arched in dark amusement. "Because my aunty Bella told me all about you." She waited as her words sunk in and she watched his face change from confusion to disbelief to horror and then finally settled on anger. Draco watched as his sister's lips spread into a wide smile and her eyes watched the boy in predatory acuteness. She had no idea how terrifying she looked, like a lioness, but much darker. It dawned on him then that Longbottom must never have seen a picture of Bellatrix, the woman who disabled his parents, or he would have already made the undeniable connection; it was no secret that Medella was just like her.

"It can't be," Neville shook his head as if that would somehow alleviate the pressure that was building there, like it would shake away the confusion.

"Well it is," The Malfoy dropped from amused to irritated in a flick of a wand. "I suggest you come to terms with it. I have." Neville's emotions changed in less time than Medella's.

The girl had crossed a line, she knew that, but the look on his face had been spectacular. The look on his face now was just pathetic. His brow was pulled low over his brown eyes, the hurt and anger that lived there could be seen from the astronomy tower. He looked from Medella to her twin brother in absolute disbelief, as if he couldn't fathom this new low that they had sunk to. Medella just smirked as Draco sneered, the Gryffindor boy was out of his league, but still he pressed on.

"Say a word about my parents and I'll-" He started, but faltered to think up a threat that these twins would find threatening, he found none. He doubted that the two Malfoys seated in front of him were scared of anything. Medella saw him falter and snapped at his heels.

"You'll what Longbottom? You have nothing on me, on us, and you know it." She spoke true, but she also spoke harshly and it made Neville's forehead crinkle and his mouth draw into a pathetic pout; he was worried about the information getting out.

Despite how cruel Medella claimed to be, she could not deny that this pathetic lion had hit a nerve, however small that nerve may be. Perhaps it was because even still he was eyeing the girl up like he still had a chance at winning the fight. Or maybe it was that for all his insecurities he was staring at the girl head on, not caring what she might say or do next.

She didn't know what it was, but she couldn't break it, not just yet.

"Alright fine, Longbottom don't be so pathetic, I'm not going to tell anyone about your parents, it's not my secret to share, and I don't really care about your sick mum and dad." His head snapped up then, his brown eyes meeting hers and clinging to them as if her near-black irises were the only life preserver on a sinking

ship.

"Make him promise." Neville said resolute, nodding his head in the direction of Draco. The boy in question merely nodded his cooperation and continued stare at the board as his quill copied down the notes by magic.

"Draco won't be a problem," Medella sighed rolling her eyes at her brother's sneer. Draco was the least of this boys problems, she still had her plans in mind.

Her plans to drive this boy mental, just like his parents, had formulated in her mind throughout the day, but now, with him so openly opposed to her lineage, it was as if icing had been slathered onto a cake. She would make him want her, despite every little nerve in his awkward body, she would make him crave her, and then crush him into dust.

But not quite yet, as the bell sounded the end of the double potions block Medella hauled her bag onto her shoulder and waltzed out of the classroom, making sure to swing her hips. Her somewhat large mouth was drawn into a signature pout. Draco gathered up his things and with one last look at the Gryffindor wimp he was off, throwing a warning over his shoulder. The boy at least deserved that much.

"Watch yourself Longbottom," He sneered down at the boy before dropping the malice in his emerald eyes. It was a brief moment of honesty from one boy to the next, but for some reason the effects left Neville in a state of greater unrest. "Watch yourself with her." With the last words the blond boy slipped out the door, leaving Neville with a lot to think about.

Neville thought about those words all through the day, and then among the crowd in the great hall. He thought about them in bed, before sleep, and then again in the morning as he brushed his teeth; he couldn't shake the Malfoy's advice, and the girl it pertained to. Even his friends noticed his distant mind, showing their concern all through breakfast and on the way to herbology.

"Are you sure you're alright Neville?" Hermione persisted, though she'd already asked three times before. Neville snapped his attention back to his bushy haired friend. He gave a weak smile and a slight nod. "Because I would walk you up to see Madam Pomfrey if you'd like," The clever witch made an effort to look her friend in the eyes, giving a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine, really," Neville said, leaving the group walking down the hill to the greenhouses in a silent disbelief. "I'm just tired I suppose."

"Yeah I suppose it is hard to sleep with ron snoring like a Swedish Short Snout all night," Harry cut in, causing Ron to kick up a fuss. Neville breathed in relief at the attention deflected.

"Look at the lions roar Draco," Della cackled as she passed, brushing Neville sharply, leaving his shoulder aching at the contact. He rubbed the spot where her shoulder had collided with his, or I suppose his elbow, there was a great height difference between the two. She turned to walk backwards, biting a full red apple before tossing it to her brother. She eyed up the Gryffindor students, there was Granger, Weasley, and of course Potter, but her dark lidded eyes couldn't help but settle on Longbottom. Neville was sure that he must be crazy, or he must be a dead man, because Medella Malfoys eyes scanned him, making their way from his toes to his top and everything in between. He felt absolutely open, and almost raw, as if her eyes raking him up and down actually left a mark; he could swear they did. What caught him off guard though was the reaction she seemed to have to him, her eyes were calculating, almost as if she were an artist, going over a blank canvas. Neville shuddered, as if that would shake her gaze off.

"I thought I heard a snake in the grass," Hermione spat back, taking offense to the nasty girl's tone.

"Oh clever Granger," The girl taunted, "Did you think long on that one?" With a roll of her eyes she turned and walked in the direction of the greenhouses. Neville cursed under his breath, another class with the Slytherins. Potions was unavoidable, but did they have to ruin his favourite subject, his best subject. He had started the walk off happy, but as they neared the greenhouse doors he felt dread sink in.

The words, "Watch yourself with her," Played over and over in Neville's mind. He wondered why Draco Malfoy would give him the warning, but more prominently he wondered what it meant. He risked a glance at the girl in question, her brows were furrowed over her textbook, making her dark features even darker. Her hair was messy and tangled and piled high on her head, with curls hanging loose that tickled her pale neck. Neville found the image disturbing, or at least what it did to him was disturbing; he didn't want to like what he saw.

Medella felt a weight on her that could only be watchful eyes, and she scanned the room for the intruder. Her eyes landed on his heavily, they stuck like glue and she kicked her plan into action. With a slow gaze she travelled up his awkward frame to his face, she flicked her gaze to his lips, which were parted, and then back over his freckles to his eyes, he seemed to melt as her gaze swept over him with a calculated heat.

Neville spilt the soil he was meaning to place around the plant. His trowel hung loosely in his grasp and if it weren't for the other twenty students he would've forgotten where he was. He would've forgotten that they weren't the only ones in the room. He felt his cheeks flame and his heart pick up it's pace in his chest. He cursed it, the girl was dangerous, she was the very image of Bellatrix LeStrange, the one to blame for everything. He blamed her for taking his parents away from him, for making him live with his clueless Grandmum, for the lack of confidence he had, and lastly for being the one thing that made Medella Malfoy off limits.

It wasn't as though he had a chance with her, but he liked to hope that on some level they had an equal footing, and he had just as much chance as the next guy. No, Medella was off limits because she was the enemy. It was as if Neville had put her, even the idea of her, on a high shelf to be forgotten; but like he knew he shouldn't he would always return to the idea. He cursed himself for taking a look at her, and he cursed himself for wanting to take another.

xxx

Medella had been playing her game slowly. First she had planted the idea in September, making him look at her, making him look twice at her. She had made sure to walk in front of him up the stairs to divination, to keep his attention focused on her, and in turn to make him notice that he was gaining her attention, and now, as October drew to a close, she sat across the hall from him she made an effort to be loud. It wasn't as if she had to try hard, her voice carried far at the best of times, and she did love Halloween. She laughed loudly, and flicked her hair, which had escaped the usual bun and now hung around her head like an unruly black mane. She took a large bite of her dinner and casually flipped her eyes onto the Gryffindor table, and more importantly the lanky lion that sat there. She had a need to sink her teeth into something, and took it out on her potato covered fork. He had been watching her, but she didn't want to care.

xxx

That night, after the grand feast and the great desert, Neville had a dream, one he wished was a nightmare. He woke sweaty, still feeling the effects that the sleep induced images gave him. He shook his head, as if that would get her out of it. The dark Malfoy had waltzed her way into his dream, swaying her hips and taunting him with a sneer. But it wasn't the usual stuff that had him all worked up, it was the impossibility of what happened next that had him all hot and bothered. She had found him in the Greenhouses, where he would often go after classes to work in peace, and she had pushed him up against the wall, rattling both him and the glass. She had put her hands on his chest, his lean muscles had jumped at her touch, and she had gone further, but Neville blushed to think about it.

"Bloody hell Neville are you still awake?" Ron mumbled bleary eyed from his pillow. Neville nearly jumped out of his skin, at the boys startling presence, he'd almost forgotten where he was, who he was with. All the other boys were asleep in their four poster beds, Neville was awake and mad with the thoughts of what the dream girl had done next.

"_Are you just going to stand there Longbottom?" _She had asked him, challenging every muscle in his body that was begging him to move, to fight against his mind and give the Malicious Malfoy exactly what she wanted, and despite all his protest he did. He kissed her with a fierceness he didn't know he possessed, and all she could do was say his name.

"_Neville_," she breathed into his ear, causing his lips at her neck to work faster.

"Neville," She said again, a little louder, and as a low grumble traveled up his throat.

"Neville! Wake up, we'll be late," He was being shaken now, shaken out of his stupor, though the groan escaping his lips now was for an entirely different reason. Ron standing above him was a stark contrast to what he'd just been thinking of, and his red hair didn't nearly compare to Medella's black curls.

xxx

"What took you boys so long," Hermione questioned in a sharp whisper as the boys just nearly made it into their defense against the dark arts class. A class that was usually fine, despite it's temporary teachers, and darker subject matter, was now absolute bollocks. Their new teacher, Umbridge was a fowl toad, who dressed in gaudy pink and left a lot to be desired in an educational standpoint. Even the Slytherins hated her, though they took some compensation knowing that the Gryffindors favourite subject had been ruined. As Neville slid into his seat next to Harry and Ron, he could see that Umbridge wasn't anywhere to be found.

"Neville had a tough time getting up this morning," Harry whispered to Hermione, she nodded her head and gave Neville a sympathetic look.

"That's not how I remember it," Ron smirked, causing Neville to blush at what was implied. Hermione scowled at Ron, but her sympathetic look to Neville seemed almost worse.

"Alright class shall we begin," Umbridge called, appearing at the front of the class in a bubblegum pink set of robes, Neville winced and pulled out his books, leaving his wand out of sight. This was a wand free class, although in the four hundred years of teaching it hadn't been as regulated. The ministry had thought that it was better this way, that students would be safer, and frankly Neville felt safer that the Slytherin in the back of the class couldn't throw and jinxes his way, but other than that he felt pointless. He always felt pointless.

Neville's mind however began to remember a time when he didn't feel that way, quite the opposite actually. He began to slip into the dream from this morning, remembering the way he knew what to do, and where to put his hands. Her waist seemed to have the perfect curve to fit his large, awkward, hands to. She had curves, he realised, that he had never seen on a girl before, because she wasn't altogether slim like the other girls, but rather filled out and Neville was just remembering the best part when his attention was snapped with the slam of a door.

"You are late Miss Malfoy," Umbridge said in a shrill, passive aggressive tone that made the whole class cringe. Well, the whole class except Medella Malfoy who had just now walked in and was flouncing to her seat. Neville tried not to notice the way she swung her hips.

"Quite observant." Medella let out in a slow droll, she rolled her eyes and adjusted herself in her seat, leaning back with her arms crossed below her chest.

"You have been a dissruption to the class and I'm afraid it will cause you a detention." Umbridge persisted, though Medella was hardly listening.

"Oh drat," Medella whimpered, mocking the teacher, who was growing red in the face.

"I will not stand for such disrespect, young lady!" Umbridge cried, and the whole room waited with baited breath for Medella's reply. I'm sure the whole room was expecting a humble apology to pass the girls lips, but Neville knew it would never happen.

"Oh _fuck off_, Dolores," Medella moaned with the roll of her eyes. The class gasped at the obscene language and almost Gyrffindor bravery that had spilled out of Medella just then. Neville felt a surge of pride that could not be spoken for, and Dolores Umbridge had a pulsing vein at the top of her forhead that looked about ready to burst.

"GET OUT!" umbridge screamed, somehow resisting the urge to throw her china cup at the insolent little brat's head. She would see to it that this girl got the most excruciating punishment, but for now she needed to get this girl out of the class, before she said something else. She must maintain order.

xxx

Medella had been feeling like causing trouble all day. It was like an itch just under the skin, and it was driving her crazy. She wanted to scream, and to throw things, or maybe to just torment another person. Walking down to the dungeons and into her Potions class she knew exactly what to do that day. She spotted Neville Longbottom in his usual seat, across from her empty one, and the way he sat with his head in his hands caused her itch to burn underneath her skin. She walked into class and slid into the seat, putting her bag in her brothers empty seat and grabbing an apple out of it's depths. She made sure to shine the apple on her blouse before biting into it. She caught Neville watching her out of the corner of his eye. She hung her heavy lidded gaze on his, slowly luring his eyes to look her full on. She then looked away. Medella smirked to herself as she felt the boys gaze stay on her even when the professor had called the room to attention. Her brother had skipped out of classes that day, feigning a headache, but Medella knew the truth. Blaise had also decided to skip, though his reasons had more to do with the girl's skirt he was no doubt up right now. She was left alone with Neville, and that meant her plans would take action sooner rather than later.

Neville wondered if his luck could get worse, or better, or what he should think of this predicament he found himself in. With Medella Malfoy as his potions partner, with her hair up and off her beautiful face, and her sleeves pushed up and her skirt too high on her thighs when she sat next to him. He had no idea what to think when she leaned over him to add potions ingredients, and he had no idea what to think of his heart racing at her proximity.

"Are you even listening to me Longbottom," The dark Malfoy asked him, arching her brow at him dangerously. Neville snapped to attention, passing her the lacewing flies she had asked for, his large hands brushing hers as she took the jar from him. "Pay better attention next time. We wouldn't want you having an accident would we?"

Medella had meant it as a threat, but at Neville's blush she realized just how well her plan had to be working. She would have to ease up on her actions, but for some reason she couldn't, not yet. Medella instead looked up at the boy through her dark eyelashes, and spread her large lips into a knowing smirk, causing the boys cheeks and neck to flush a bright scarlet. She noticed the dark freckles he had across his neck, that were just covered by the starched white collar of his shirt. She twirled a curl around her fingertips and kept working.

xxx

Neville was in hogsmeade, after just signing up for Dumbledores army, he was walking back up to the castle and snow was falling. He felt good, as if something had clicked and this what he was supposed to be doing. He felt like his parents would be proud. The general air around him seemed to have changed, it was exhilarating. But perhaps that had more to do with his friends around him, and Hermione talking about rule breaking. Either way Neville knew that the good mood he found himself in had to do with the sheer Gryffindor air that hung about the students as they crossed into the castle from the cold. Neville was intent on finding a place for them to practice. Harry would help them to learn defense against the dark arts, in secret of course, but they needed a room first. As Neville roamed the castle the next few days he was intent on finding one, and on the way back from the library a week later he found it.

Medella had been looking to relieve her boredom and she had found a handsome seventh year Ravenclaw to help her with what she needed. She had just finished, choosing the room of requirement for privacy and appropriate accommodations for their activities. She was buttoning up her shirt when she stepped into the hallway and out of the come-and-go room. The boy had needed a moment to collect himself, but he was right behind her, when Neville Longbottom rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks, wishing that his footfalls had been just a bit lighter, wanting to turn back without a word, but it was too late. Medella Malfoy had felt eyes on her, and as she looked up from her task of redressing herself she found him. Neville Longbottom, she smirked up at his presence, glad it wasn't anyone of note, like her brother, or a teacher. The boy behind her, Max, was fixing his belt and Medella huffed at the boy's incompetence. "Want to give me a hand with this?" He smirked up at her, thinking that he was being oh so clever. Neville winced, and Medella turned from one boy to the next. The little lions face held in her mind as she turned her wrath on the moronic Ravenclaw.

"Are you still here?" She spat unreasonably volatile, sending the Ravenclaw boy stumbling down the hall in the opposite direction. She wheeled her fury then on the little lion, who was fighting the urge to cower, and the urge to press her against the wall where the door once was. Did she know how beautiful she was.

Her dark features were drawn up and she looked like a panther, or even a viper waiting to strike, it was mesmerising. But when she spoke the poison stung, and Neville remembered that they could never be together. Despite the dreams he kept having.

"What are you looking at?" She spat at him, cooling down from her initial eruption at the Ravenclaw. Neville just stood there, not quite frozen to the spot.

"Nothing," He muttered, looking away from her, although still keeping the image of her dark eyes on him at the back of his mind. "I'll keep your secret," He added on like an after thought, thinking back to the time she'd shown the same courtesy months previous.

"I don't care who you tell Longbottom," she said, flipping her hair to the side so that all the curls piled on top of each other. Neville felt a pang of jealousy that the Ravenclaw had had the chance to run his hands through it. Neville wanted badly to touch it now.

As if Medella had sensed his need she ran her fingers through her hair in a way that made Neville want to melt. Perhaps he was melting, he felt his knees a little weaker than before.

"Look, I'm glad you feel the need for privacy, but I can assure you that Max will have already told anyone who'll listen. I have that effect on boys." Neville just looked at the floor, his shoes suddenly so interesting to him. He clenched his hands in his pockets, maybe because he couldn't hold her. "You'll make a girl quite happy one day Longbottom." Medella purred, a lot closer to him than she had been moments ago. Her fingers touched his chin lightly, and Neville almost let a low noise escape his throat, almost. She tilted his head so that he looked her in the eyes, and his lips were parted just slightly. "But you'll have to look them in the eyes first." She spoke, her breath sending shivers down his spine; he felt the tingle of her closeness all the way back to his common room, and all the way through the night.

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